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Virgin's Dirty Boss by Nicole Elliot (47)

Scarlett

Scarlett rose early and dressed sensibly for their day of sightseeing, tucking a towel and other paraphernalia in a beach bag. She was surprised to find only Carter waiting for her downstairs. “Where’s Darren?”

“He’s going to spend the day riding horses and relaxing. Darren doesn’t like boat rides,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

She couldn’t imagine Darren being afraid of anything and found his fear of boats rather endearing. After a quick breakfast of strong, black coffee and sweet buns, they left the house. He led her down the hill, through the olive grove, until they came to the small dock. “Go ahead and get in the speedboat,” said Carter.

Scarlett settled herself in the boat as Carter slipped off the rope that kept them tethered. He started the engine and guided them out.

“I’ve never been to Mykanos.”

“You’ll love it,” Carter said. “It’s the largest island in the Cyclades chain, and it has a lively nightlife. In Hora, the capital, there are three museums you’ll probably want to see, and if there’s time, we’ll stop by a bouzokia.”

“What’s a bouzokia?” Scarlett asked loudly as the boat hit the open water and wind whipped around them. Her hair was blowing freely, and she secured it with her left hand as best she could.

“A nightclub,” he said in a near-shout. “Conversation is difficult out here, but it’s only a short trip.”

“How long does it take your mitera to get to Greece by boat?” asked Scarlett.

“My mother?” he asked in confusion.

“When she does her charity work,” Scarlett elaborated. They hit a wave, and the boat jumped a few feet in the air, making her stomach churn. She could now understand Darren’s dislike for this boat, and she scrambled to put on a life vest.

“Oh, she doesn’t go by boat,” said Carter. “She takes the helicopter.”

“Helicopter?” Scarlett asked stupidly.

Carter leaned closer, and Scarlett caught a whiff of his cologne, a musky, sandalwood scent. “You didn’t see the chopper?” he asked, raising his voice to be heard. Scarlett shook her head. “It’s parked at the airstrip where we landed.”

A vague memory flashed through Scarlett’s mind and she nodded, remembering the chopper now. Carter laughed, showing perfect white teeth. “It would take much too long for Mama to get to Athens by boat.”

Scarlett nodded, but didn’t respond verbally. The wind was too high for him to hear her, or vice versa. Instead, she settled comfortably in the small seat and watched the miles pass as they skimmed over the Aegean Sea.

When Mykanos came into sight, Scarlett caught her breath in delight. The crystal blue waters of the sea washed onto a rocky shore. For a moment, the water reminded her of Carter’s eyes. White buildings lined the shore, nestled against the mountains that rose behind them.

A friendly man at the dock took the rope Carter threw him and anchored them to the post. Carter brought the boat close to the dock and hopped out, offering her a hand. It was the first time they touched since the kiss and she felt her cheeks fill with blush.

“Are you ready to do some walking?” asked Carter, and Scarlett nodded with enthusiasm.

They began their tour of Hora in the Castro district. Scarlett admired the brilliant white cubic houses with their balconies and white-washed parapets, some with white windmills in the front of the houses. They were very close together, with just a few feet of space between each home. Several homes were three and four stories as the houses were often built one on top of the other.

Carter led her to the Church of the Panagia Paraportiani, left over from the days of Byzantine rule. Scarlett wanted to go into the arched bell tower and was disappointed to find the only entrance, a door on the side, locked. “It is rarely open these days,” said Carter. “Vandals have done too much damage.”

There were almost seven hundred churches on Mykanos, and Carter took her to see several more, including the cathedral Panachrantos, St. Kyriaki, and St. Eleni. “Why are there so many churches?” Scarlett asked as the left St. Eleni.

“In the old days, family members were often buried in the walls of the churches. Some families built a new church each time a family member died.”

“So there are dead bodies in the walls?” Scarlett asked with horrified fascination. Carter nodded and suggested they go to the museums.

They went through the Archaeological Museum, where Scarlett admired the Trojan vase from 670 B.C., then on to the Folk Museum, where artifacts of everyday life were displayed. Scarlett’s interest in museums waned with the Nautical Museum, and they stopped for a late lunch.

They chose a pub with tables lined up in front of the tiny restaurant and ate freshly caught seafood, grilled in olive oil and capers. Scarlett cautiously sipped the ouzo, but found the fresh water from Tria Pagadia more to her liking.

“Would you like to spend the rest of the afternoon on the beach?” Carter asked after settling the check.

“Sounds wonderful,” Scarlett agreed. “My feet are killing me, especially my ankle.”

“We’re close to Psarou, if that’s all right with you,” Carter suggested.

“As long as I don’t have to walk very far, I’m game.”

They walked a short distance, until they came to the warm brownish-white sand of the Psarou. There were a few merchant stands and a beach bar that ran year round, despite the decline in beachgoers during winter.

It was another warm day, and there was a good turn-out. Carter rented two sand chairs from a merchant, and they staked out a spot. He showed her where to change, and disappeared to change too.

Scarlett emerged from the cubicle dressed in a modest one-piece. Carter was waiting for her, wearing Bermuda style swim trunks. Finally, she could get a good look at his rippling muscles. But when he turned around, she saw that scars that lined his back, and extended around the side of his body to the arm he had showed her. She quickly averted her eyes, but knew he’d seen her looking. Her heart stirred, and she wondered once more how he’d been exposed to acid.

“If it was summertime, you could learn to wind surf or water-ski,” Carter offered as they waded into the water.

“I know how to water ski, but I’ve never been wind surfing. Do you know how?”

“I’ve done it a few times.”

She lost herself in swimming for a time before exhaustion won, and she returned to shore, joining Carter.

She skipped the chair in favor of her towel, spreading it on the warm sand before sitting down. She rummaged in her bag for sunscreen and applied it generously to all the areas she could reach. Biting her lip indecisively, she finally asked Carter, “Would you put sunscreen on my back?”

He rose from the chair and joined her on the large towel, taking the bottle of lotion from her.

Scarlett sighed as his hands settled on her back, relaxing as Carter rubbed the lotion in deeply. She tensed a little as his hands went lower, a warmth spreading between her legs, but he stopped at the edge of her swimsuit. His hands remained on her back for a long moment before he drew them away.

Rolling over, Scarlett gave in to a wicked impulse. “I’d better put some on your back too,” she suggested. “It’s probably been awhile since you were exposed to the sun to this degree.”

“Good idea,” he said huskily, lying down as she sat up on her knees. When her smooth hands settled on his back, she felt him tense, perhaps waiting for her to comment on the scars or go out of her way to avoid them. Instead she smoothed the lotion over the scarred areas in the same manner she did the untouched flesh—slowly so she could touch him for as long as possible. She felt his strong back muscles as he groaned when hands hit his waist band and she removed them from his body. “Thanks,” he said in a rough voice.

“Sure.” Scarlett lay down beside him on the towel. “You seem to love it here.”

“I do,” he agreed. “I was born on Mykanos.”

“How did you end up in San Francisco?” Scarlett asked as she smothered a yawn in the crook of her arm.

Carter hesitated so long that she thought he was either asleep or not going to answer. Finally, he said, “My father was a great man as I’ve told you, but he was not a hard worker. He had many jobs when I was little, and none were to his liking. It was never his fault that he lost the job,” he said with a hint of mocking. “When I was ten, my father decided to move us to the United States, hoping his luck would improve there.”

He fell silent again, and Scarlett nudged his calf with her toe. “Go on.”

“My mother did not want to leave Greece, but they had a very traditional family. She was responsible for the house and for raising the children, but ultimately, my father made the decisions. He took our family to America.”

“Was it better for your father?” asked Scarlett.

“Initially, but he soon fell back into the same old patterns. My mother went to work, something she’d never been prepared for, and she kept us going until my brother and I were done with school and old enough to work.”

“What did your mother do?” asked Scarlett, thinking she already knew the answer after what he’d said about her servants.

“She became a maid. She refused to quit when I graduated from high school. She insisted I got to college, and I did. Even when my father died the next year, she refused to let me drop out of the university.”

“Then what happened?” Scarlett asked as his face close.

“It’s not important.”

He fell into a brooding silence, and Scarlett stopped trying to draw him out. Instead she dozed off, and woke an hour later to him shaking her awake. “I don’t want you to burn,” he said, seeming to be restored to good humor.

“Are we going back to your island now?” Scarlett asked reluctantly. She did not want to face his sisters again anytime soon.

“It’s up to you. There is a wedding tonight, and we’ve been invited. I know the groom slightly. A traditional Greek wedding is an interesting experience, but it would mean staying the night here in Mykanos. We can’t return to the island at night.”

“I don’t have any clothes with me,” said Scarlett. “But if I can pick up a change of clothes it sounds wonderful.”

“That can be arranged.”

She returned to the changing cubicle, longing for a hot shower and making do with the sink. When she emerged, dressed once more in the linen slacks and white shirt, Carter was waiting for her. They walked away from the beach and down a few streets until they came to a shop.

Scarlett only selected a simple dress and nightgown, as there wasn’t much from which to choose. The gown was a gauzy material, palest blue.

“We’ll book rooms at the inn next, so we can prepare for the wedding.” He had selected a simple outfit of trousers, and a black shirt.

The inn was a small building, simply decorated, but everything was clean. Carter spoke in Greek with the owner, shaking his head often.

“What’s going on,” she asked after they had been talking for some time.

“There’s a little problem. Because of the wedding there’s only one room left.”

Scarlett eyed him carefully.

“And?”

He smiled at her smugly. “And I guess we’ll make it work,” he said placing his credit card on the desk.

Carter waited outside as she showered and got changed. Then she sat on the bed reading a book that had been left in the room. It was in Greek, but she didn’t care, it was just nice to relax. When Carter stepped out of the bathroom in his slacks and grabbed his shirt from a chair, Scarlett could hardly stop herself from drooling. She saw him look toward her direction and she ducked down behind the safety of the book once more.

They walked out of the inn and down the street, stopping at one of the many churches where a crowd was already gathering. Lively discussions in Greek flowed around them, and several people stopped to speak with Carter. He introduced her to many of them, and she smiled affectionately.

“What time is the wedding?” Scarlett asked Carter.

“As soon as it gets dark, you’ll hear the bride coming.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

With a vague smile, he said, “You’ll see.”

The groom, a nervous young man, paced continuously in front of the steps, growing more agitated as the sun changed the sky from blue to orange, then pink, and finally black velvet. Candles and torches were lit as the light faded away. He cried out with excitement as a chorus of music and voices could be heard descending towards them. Several other people began to form two lines, and Carter led Scarlett off to the side. “Here she comes now,” he said.

Behind a small procession of people, Scarlett could make out a cart drawn by a horse. Standing in the cart was a young woman in a stunning white gown. The people in her procession mingled with the others forming on the steps, and the groom lifted his bride from the cart.

The ceremony was brief, conducted all in Greek, but it still brought tears to Scarlett’s eyes. When they were joined, a loud cheer issued from the assemblage. Scarlett joined in, not knowing the words, but still raising her voice.

They followed the line of people back to a home nearby, and into their courtyard, where a bonfire blazed and a table was loaded with food. Scarlett sampled a little bit of everything and watched as the guests opened their presents. Everything from wine to pottery was given to the new couple, and she wished they’d brought something.

Music began again, and the dancing started. At first, the men were segregated from the women, but as the night passed and the ouzo and wine flowed freely, rigid standards were abandoned, and Carter swept her into a dance for which she had no name. She tried to follow the shuffling of feet and sudden jumps, but was soon giggling helplessly.

“It’s getting late,” said Carter. “Most of the guests will be here long after the bride and groom have departed.”

“Should we head back to the inn?” Scarlett asked with a giggle. “This was fun. That dance made my head spin.”

“That and the wine,” Carter said dryly. They bid farewell to their hosts and the other guests, and it took another twenty minutes for them to break away. On the walk back to their inn, Carter kept a firm hold on Scarlett’s arm.

“I’m glad you know where we’re going, because I would get lost in no time. All the twists and turns confuse me.”

“Here we are, so no need to fear getting lost.”

“Nope,” Scarlett said with another giggle and followed him inside. Carter opened the door and they moved inside. Standing in front of the bed, the only bed, that they would be forced to share.

Scarlett’s head was spinning, but she was only slightly tipsy. She was drunker on the sights she’d seen, and the wedding she’d witnessed. The wine had given her a nice buzz, but it had worn off, so she couldn’t blame it for what she was contemplating.

No, it was her own desire that was leading her to wicked thoughts. Her body burned for Carter’s touch, and she wanted him. She walked into the bathroom and stripped down to her underwear, trying to decide if she was brave enough to take what she wanted.

She washed her hands in the sink, but as she was grabbing a towel, she was interrupted by Carter knocking on the door.

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